


Step one - biceps (again)

by icylook



Series: M-21 sleeping on Frankenstein [2]
Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 09:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19331977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icylook/pseuds/icylook
Summary: Frankenstein briefly wondered, if the grey strands would be so silky under his touch as they looked like.





	Step one - biceps (again)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [he slep on tha biceps](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/492487) by galaxysilver. 



> Second part of the series of tumblr drabbles with Frankenstein and M-21; works were inspired by galaxysilver's amazing artwork.

If he was sleepy before, now it was just a distant memory. The weight of M’s head on his arm, the feel of M’s hand on his chest, the warmth of M’s body curled so close to Frankenstein’s were very effective distractions. M was a quiet sleeper, he almost didn’t move at all. The only thing indicating that he was there, beside the spots their bodies were touching, was the quiet rhythm of his breath. Despite the angle and the silver hair obscuring part of his face, Frankenstein had a perfect view of M’s peaceful expression.

Frankenstein briefly wondered, if the grey strands would be so silky under his touch as they looked like. He didn’t move to test it though, as one arm stayed trapped under M’s head and he would have to change the position slightly, if he would like to bring his other hand to M’s hair. But he didn’t want to risk M waking up, so he disposed of the thought, storing it for later, and looked at the ceiling. He didn’t have the chance to change his clothes, thinking M would nap for a short time, wake up and Frankenstein’s role in the unusual request would be done.

It was hours ago and it didn’t look like M would be waking up sooner than at dawn. Frankenstein let out a small sigh and closed his eyes.

He thought it was a bluff, that M got a kick out of teasing him as he did, not that Frankenstein was offended by the playful behaviour. Even if M was jesting, he appreciated the effort and that he could witness the cunning side of M.

He was sure M forgot about his odd demand, because it was hours before Frankenstein decided to leave the lab and call it a night. On the way to his room he didn’t hear a thing, the household seemed to calm down from the earlier commotion - Tao was a happy and talkative drunk and usually he was responsible for the team’s _relaxing time._ Sometimes they indulged in drinking games, what resulted in mysterious vanishing of objects or misplace of them, but mostly it didn’t end in property damage. Or body injuries, though the scars on mind and memory remained.

During the short walk to his room Frankenstein mused about reading a book before his rest, but his thoughts came to sudden stop, when his gaze landed on a figure sitting on a floor next to the doors to his bedroom. The person stirred upon hearing Frankenstein’s steps and grumbled “Took you long enough,” before  he proceeded to sluggishly stand up. He had to briefly support himself with a hand on the wall, but other than that, the grey eyes that were fixed at Frankenstein were looking with a clarity of a tired but sober man.

“Well?” M quirked a brow, his stance relaxed. He was in his sleep clothes, showing much more skin than when in his suit. Looking softer, sleepier, more _vulnerable_.

Frankenstein discreetly cleared his suddenly dry throat.

“I didn’t know I was on a time table,” His light tone was accompanied by a small smile, at which M only grunted in response. Frankenstein opened the doors to his room, stepping aside and gesturing for M to come in. M only spared him a brief glance and nearly launched himself onto Frankenstein’s bed, face first and bounced on the matters with a content and audiable sigh. Frankenstein quietly closed the doors and leaned on them, both hands behind him, touching their cool surface. He watched as M gathered the pillow under his head, and Frankenstein could swear it looked like M took a whiff of the squishy object before he hugged it to his chest and sat on the bed to face Frankenstein properly.

They were looking at each other in silence until M patted the spot beside him.

“You promised.” He said quietly, silver gaze unflinching, lips pulled in a tiny and tender smile. One of the straps of M’s white tank top had fallen down on his shoulder.

Soft, sleepy, vulnerable.

_Trusting._

And who was Frankenstein to deny M?

 

 


End file.
